Today is November 8. Winter is grandly parading across this little piece of land. People walk the streets wrapped in thick jackets, wearing Greek-style waistcoats, opinga shoes, Italian shoes. In the black market they sell watches; carpets, hearse cars, colors, half-boots are hawked, worthless tins, worn-out brushes, garlic, beans. Everything is sold at prices of 1,000, 2,500, 1,000,000—a lifetime. On the airwaves, the news bulletins tremble, the 10 o’clock news, the bazaar of parliamentarianism can be heard. Journalists deal with everything and come and go from editorial offices. Rejoinders, sensations, truths, fabrications crash down in the form of newspapers onto people’s faces and shoulders. The trees ominously shiver their chilled skeletons and gaze at the season’s cold air. The birds that are left, those who could not board the ferries to Africa, wander aimlessly beneath the gloomy sky and cannot buy their monthly provisions. Prices have risen again. Today is November 8. under the weight of its sins. How will the house of the «Mother Party» be patched up on its roof today? And so these children will stone it, demolish it with their youthful revolt, and urinate on its walls. This November 8, television programs will not be filled with false documentaries, phantom achievements, hypocritical concerts. This November we want to escape the drama «The Communists», the tattered flags of socialism, the platforms, the congresses of «victories»; we want to escape the «chimneys that rise up to the clouds»; we want to demolish this «granite rock» of lies, this «granite rock» of loneliness, of poverty, this «granite rock» of madness. We do not want the slogans: «fight imperialism, the bourge...», fight this one, fight that one, fight everyone, fight. We do not want the slogans: «We’ll pour lead into their mouths...», iron, fire, rifles, bunkers, blood, wire, borders. We want space, peace, humanity, humanism, life, liberation. «We want triumph». Communists, renovationists, socialists today, November 8, should speak and write—memories, reports, speeches—and fill them with the voice of ... «truth». Or else they must rise and tell the truth for the first time. They must say who organized the counter-rallies, Enver’s activists, the tragic exoduses, the killings in Kavajë and Shkodër, and who wanted to march toward Tirana to raise the tyrant’s statue again. Today, precisely on its 50th anniversary, we Albanians are experiencing our first November 8 of freedom. It is the last time it is marked in red on the calendar; it is the last time it is mentioned. In time, surely many things will have changed for the better. There will be less violence, gossip, theft, intrigue, hypocrisy, less politics—there will be fewer communists. There will be more young men in the streets of Lezhë, Tirana, Shkodër, Durrës, in the streets of Albania, and consequently there will be more love, beautiful, free dreams, more work. New Year will be celebrated magnificently, Bajra- … Today is November 8. under the weight of sin, the weight of shame, the weight of crime. What will it tell the young, what will it tell the veterans, the young? How will it deceive the kindergarten children today? Where will it find the toys, the «happy life», the good parents, the brothers who fled «along the Elbe, along the Spree»? How will it explain the lives spent in internment, the lives imprisoned? The broken windows of the school- … Communists, renovationists, socialists today, November 8, must speak and hold rallies. Let them gather today and hold jubilee meetings, conferences, symposiums where «the Party’s word resounds». Let them visit Enver’s grave and lay a wreath of flowers there. Let them once again call to mind the «immortal teachings», the «polemics»… Let them fill «ZP» with air, pages, letters, leaves and flowers, struggle. … beautiful, free dreams, more work. New Year, Bajram, Easter and all the other holidays that the people have known for hundreds of years will be celebrated magnificently. And no one will give another thought to October 16 or November 8. Oblivion will have settled over them. Forever.

Ever since the time when Ramiz Alia muniste tries to be apolo-erdi at the head of the Albanian state, people had thought that warmer days would come to Albania than those the communist winter had served up for decades. But, in fact, that did not happen. The country was left to the mercy of fate. The leader of the last half-decade in Albania looked so much like his predecessor. But it was not meant to continue for long. The nationwide revolt brought about a series of changes in the country, despite the dictatorship’s perverse zeal, ably represented by the president. New events followed, but let us get to the point... The genuine opposition press called for the president’s resignation. Pages upon pages were filled with facts that condemned him severely. To everyone’s surprise, the president remained silent on this point, leaving room for his political activity, which reached a peak in the history of Albanian presidents: Finland, France, Turkey, Italy receive and see off the last representative of the communist clan... A man of stature would have considered a public response in the press or on television to be a matter of civic duty for our president, even if only to refute some fact «blown up» against him. But the president, even after his trips, remains silent, until the day of his visit to Shkodër, when he says: «Some love me and some insult me and demand my resignation. That’s my business». (RD, October 25). It is clear that the president, in the final act of the tragedy, reveals his nature: «Some love me». What if we asked the president where the «house» is of those who love him? What a pity! In theory, our president’s role is clearly defined: formally, he represents the unity of the people. But in the meantime, he makes a fool’s mistake: he divides the Albanian people into two kinds—some who love him and some who do not—which means that, if we follow his logic, as president of the Republic he now represents not the unity of the people, but a divided people (!). And as if all this were not enough, regarding his resignation, he adds: That’s my business (!). The trouble is that the president cannot tell us how long this will remain his business. Will this remain the president’s business until Albania is completely cut off? Will it remain the president’s business until the exodus has taken the last Albanian with it? In any case, the president remains in his armchair, regardless of judgments and a reality so shocking that people, seeing no prospects, ask: Is there a God in this country? This very question clearly presupposes that our president has magically given up directing the state, leaving it to anarchy and spontaneity, while still holding office. A unique case indeed, this of our president. MARASH MIRASHI

And now, at long last, the Minister of Justice too has fallen into the trap of the dark forces... We had heard of the theft and robbery of private cars, various assets, state or private property, even the abduction of women, but we had never imagined that the Minister of Justice would be robbed. How did it happen? One fine day, the Minister of Justice, chief investigator and prosecutor, was driving his car, in high spirits, along the Fushë-Krujë road. Suddenly a group of mafiosi, armed to the teeth, appear in front of them and force them out of the car and to get into the middle of four ... (Imagine: the Minister of Justice with his hands tied!) The search begins; all following the mafiosi leader demand the pockets and the money in them. But the mafiosi are not satisfied with that; they also demand the jackets they are wearing. The men caught «red-handed» become terrifying. One of them approaches the Minister and snatches his jacket. The Minister is even more upset, but the mafioso says… … come on, don’t take it off. Aren’t you ashamed to go out in that old jacket? And you’re a Minister...! – And the Minister is forced to listen to their insults. What can he do? A pistol is frightening. But what is most striking is that these mafiosi were caught by the police immediately after the incident with the Minister. Within the day. Whereas when citizens’ property is robbed or stolen, it takes the police whole months to discover the thieves. For the Minister, the mafiosi are caught within a day...! This gives you to understand that the police are not incapable when it suits them. Certainly no one is pleased about this incident, when one thinks of the Minister as a citizen like everyone else, but when one thinks of the sluggishness in enforcing the law by the public-order and justice authorities, one can say: Well done to you! Let the Minister too experience what it means to have a pistol pointed at you and to be robbed in the middle of the road, in broad daylight, so that he will work properly and demand more order, calm, and justice.

Zenun Hyseni, chairman of the Politics and Personnel Commission of the Gostivar branch of the Party of Democratic Prosperity (Macedonia), is the first and last person to buy the dictator’s bust. In these times we are living through, when E. Hoxha bears the stigma of a dictator, anyone seeking to buy his bust would be considered mad, or at least out of touch with the times. But Hyseni is a practical man. He comes from Macedonia. In response to our journalists’ questions, he replied: Let it cost as much as it wants. I will take it to my children in Gostivar so they know who the dictator of our motherland was.

Fourth year of publication Weekly No. 42 (187) PUBLISHED IN LEZHË FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1991 Price: 1 lek